


A Thousand Words or More

by Fanforthefics (StormDancer)



Series: Hockey Tumblr Oneshots [16]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Jealousy, Learning To Communicate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 11:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15218600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormDancer/pseuds/Fanforthefics
Summary: It's a practical plan. It's the off-season, they won't see each other for three months. Of course they should be allowed to sleep with other people.





	A Thousand Words or More

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: things you said I wish you hadn't. Inspired by Sid's European tour. 
> 
> Unbetaed and basically unedited. Don't know anything about anyone, these aren't real people, don't own rights to anything, etc etc. Enjoy!

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you.” 

Geno gives Sid his most skeptical look. Given that the sex is as good as it’s ever been, even with the post-playoffs disappointment, it’s not very skeptical. He’s always more tolerant of Sid’s idiosyncrasies–like his need to talk, all the time–after he’s come. It doesn’t hurt that Sid’s still naked next to him, stretched out on Geno’s bed, his hair messy and his lips swollen. At this point in the postseason, he’s not at his most impressive, maybe, but it’s still a sight. 

“Think you just did plenty of talking,” he tells Sid. Sid snorts–he knows as well as anyone how much they both love it when Geno gets Sid to start babbling. After hooking up for months, he can say confidently he’s pretty good at it. 

“I’m serious,” Sid says, a half step away from a whine. But his eyes really are serious, and after this year’s playoffs Geno’s seen that too much and would give maybe a lot to stop it–maybe he’s been spoiled, the past two years lifting the Cup, that he hasn’t had to see it–so Geno sighs. 

“Fine. What you have to say?” 

Sid’s nods. His fingers are drumming over his thighs. “You’re leaving in a few days, right?” 

“Monday,” Geno confirms. He’s ready. He loves Pittsburgh, but basically everyone else has cleared out already–Geno’s only really here because Sid had a few more days of commitments than everyone else, and then Geno wanted a few days of Sid without everyone else who always wanted Sid’s time. The problem with finally starting something between them just as the season started was that they’d only ever been able to steal the minutes between hockey. Geno doesn’t mind; Sid has to share him with hockey as much as he has to share Sid with it, and anyway they share hockey most of the time, and Geno wouldn’t give up their shared hockey for the sex. But it does mean that he’s glad they stole these past few days to do all the things they couldn’t during the season. They’re both athletic guys; it’s been satisfying to take advantage of that. 

But now–they can only stay in bed together so long, and he knows Sid’s ready to start doing something again because Sid is both constitutionally incapable of lazing around and has a learned aversion to it ever since the concussion, and Geno’s getting itchy too, wants to get to Miami sun and back to Russia. It’s time to go. 

“Right. Monday.” Sid nods. Geno is a hundred percent sure it’s in a calendar somewhere. “So–before you went, I wanted to say. We won’t see each other for a few months.” 

“Yes, can tell time.” 

“Fuck off.” Sid’s glare is half-hearted, through his serious, responsible face. “I don’t have expectations, eh? That’s what I wanted to say.” 

“Expectations?” Geno echoes. He has a feeling he knows what Sid’s talking about, but–he wants to be sure. 

“You can hook up with other people,” Sid tells him bluntly. “I don’t expect you not to.” 

“Okay,” Geno agrees. They never really talked about being exclusive during the season, but as long as Geno could be having amazing sex with Sid, who was his best friend and always in the same place as him and didn’t need more than a “want to?” then he didn’t see the point of finding someone else, so they’d ended up practically being exclusive. Now–three months. It makes sense. It’s very Sid. Very practical. 

“Just, be safe, all that.” Sid’s watching him, like he’s afraid he’s going to blow. 

“Yes, of course,” Geno agrees. He’s not stupid. He would maybe take stupid risks with himself, but never with Sid. 

“Okay. Good.” 

“Good,” Geno echoes, rolling his eyes. “That what you so serious about?” 

“Hey, I’m communicating!” 

“Yes, communicate very well,” Geno agrees. Then he rolls over, so he’s straddling Sid’s thighs. They’re not kids anymore, but he’s got Sid naked and stretched out beneath him. He can manage another round. 

It’s only after, when Sid’s getting ready to go back to his house, that it occurs to Geno. “If I hook up with other people–you too?” 

Sid shrugs. He’s putting on his sneakers. “That’s only fair.” 

He’s got a point. “Okay,” Geno agrees, then tugs Sid back in to press him against the door and kiss him again, long and thoroughly. He’ll see Sid again before he goes. He just feels the need to bite at his lip a little right now. 

///

Geno says goodbye to Sid on Sunday with a day of watching shitty movies between fucking, and leaves him with bruises all down his chest and over his thighs, because he can. Then he’s on a plane to Miami, and he gets to his condo and then out to dinner with friends and then back home. 

By the time he gets home, there’s a text from Sid–a response to his confirmation that he landed okay because Sid’s neurotic like that, just a “have a good summer!” text like they won’t communicate for the next few months. Geno rolls his eyes at his phone. 

HIs bed feels big that night, after a week of sharing with 200 lbs of hockey player. It’s fine. It was just habit. He’s fine. 

He wonders if Sid’s in the habit too. 

///

He goes out the next night, and dances and flirts, but he doesn’t pick up. Not for any reason. Just because he doesn’t feel like it. He takes a picture of the ocean outside the club, the moonlight reflecting off of it, and sends it to Sid. 

Sid likes it, but doesn’t reply. 

///

That night, despite himself, he starts to think about it. About why Sid had said it. It made sense, Geno agreed. They were going to be apart for months. There was no reason for them to be celibate for those months. It’s not like–the hooking up between Sid and Geno might be new this year, but it’s not like sex between them or anyone else will get in between them. Sex isn’t going to change the two headed monster. 

Except Geno can’t stop thinking about Sid’s serious face when he’d said it. Did he expect Geno to argue? It made sense. They were practical people, the two of them. Well, Sid more than Geno, but–

They were fine, Geno thinks, and rolls over to get to sleep. 

///

The first picture shows up a week later–Sid in Europe, standing on the ice grinning at the camera next to a large guy he’s practicing with. Geno looks at the picture for a long time. Was this why Sid said it? Was it all just–did he just want permission to hook up with other people? Sid would do something like that, all Canadian passive aggressiveness and is seven steps in the future brain. 

Which would be fine. It would all be fine. 

///

The pictures keep coming. Geno continues to be fine with the fact that Sid seems to be taking pictures with attractive men all across Europe. Sid doesn’t say anything about it when they text, and they text a lot; he just tells Geno about the sightseeing he’s doing and, because he is always consistently himself, the training, and listens to Geno’s own offseason stories. 

Geno could ask, he guesses. He could just say–so, that guy in that picture, he was hot, did you hit that? Sid wouldn’t be offended. Sid was never offended. He could ask, and maybe Sid would tell him–maybe Sid would tell him about it, and then Geno could imagine it, and it would be hot. It would be, he insists to himself. 

Then he goes to a club. Finds a hot girl to dance with, to buy drinks and flirt with, and she’s nice and just the right sort of mean and he knows how she’s looking at him, what she wants, and Geno could. He could. Sid probably is. Sid gave him permission. Sid didn’t need to give him permission, because they weren’t–

“You want to get out of here?” she asks, her voice barely audible over the music of the club, and Geno should. Sid is. 

And then he’s just thinking of Sid, with his dorky laugh and how he can’t dance and can’t flirt and the look in his eyes when he wants to kiss Geno and the last time they were out together when Geno had spent most of the night feeling Sid’s eyes on him as he danced with other people and they barely made it back to Geno’s before Sid had him against the door and tugging his head down to kiss him with all that patented Sidney Crosby intensity turned on taking him apart. 

“No,” he tells her, with an apologetic smile. “Sorry.” 

She shrugs. “Okay. Then I’m going to…” 

“Sure.” He lets her go, and ends up back at the bar. Then home. Then he thinks about Sid and his hands and the muscles in his latest picture and fuck, Geno misses him. 

///

Another picture shows up when Geno’s having dinner with Gonch and his family back in Moscow. Sid’s back in North America, but he’s still going around taking pictures with attractive people, and Geno scowls at the latest one and puts his phone away again. 

“Bad news?” Gonch asks, a little worried. 

“No.” It’s nothing news. “Not bad. Sid just having fun.” Maybe Geno should stop talking. But it’s not like they’re a secret from their teammates, and–Geno’s just generally been pissy this whole summer, and he doesn’t like it. He’s been pissy and Sid said he should hook up with other people and he hasn’t and Sid has and it’s too much for him to keep in. 

“And that’s a bad thing?” 

Geno groans, and drops his head back onto the couch. “Before we left Pittsburgh, Sid said I could hook up with other people.” 

Gonch’s eyebrows go up. “And you agreed?” 

“Yes! It makes sense.” Geno closes his eyes. This is true. “It’s months for us to do our own thing. And why wouldn’t we?” 

Geno shrugged. “I thought you two were serious, is all.” 

“Of course it’s serious! It’s Sid.” Geno doesn’t know how not to be serious about Sid. Maybe not about the hooking up, but about–the two of them, what there is between them, the team and their friendship and everything else. 

“And you’re still hooking up with other people?” 

“Lots of guys do it, during the season. They have arrangements with their wives, or whatever.” 

“They do,” Gonch agrees. He’s looking at Geno like he used to when Geno did something especially stupid as a rookie. “I just never thought you’d be able to manage that.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Gonch chuckles. “It means that you’re not practical, Zhenya. And you’ve never liked sharing Sid.” 

“It’s not sharing,” Geno mutters. Sharing implies–it implies that Sid’s giving part of him that was Geno’s to other people. That’s not true. He can fuck as many people as he wants, Geno  _knows_ that the parts of him that are Sid-and-Geno is the same. He knows that. Geno could sleep with everyone in Russia and that wouldn’t touch the parts of him that are Sid’s. “Anyway, he’s the one who said it first. That I should hook up with other people. Or that I could, at least.” 

“And have you?” Gonch asks, patient like he’s talking to one of his daughters. 

Geno scowls at his hands. “No. But I could.” He just–hasn’t. Because it would be weird. Because he only wants Sid, apparently. Because he and Sid are–

“You know, you’re allowed to want something more,” Gonch tells him, almost gentle, and Geno shakes his head. 

“I like what we have,” he says. He does. He likes how easy it is. How they don’t need to talk about it. How it’s just Sid and Geno, like they always were, except with just that little bit more. 

“You two are just as stupid as you ever were,” Gonch mutters to himself, and Geno has to throw a pillow at him for that. 

///

Sid’s got his arm around this one. He’s looking good, all his summer weight making him even more impressive and Geno wants to lick all of him, and he’s grinning like he’s having the time of his life. 

Geno looks at the picture in his Moscow apartment, and then he looks at the apartment. At the bed, which still feels too big. At the picture of the team raising the cup on the mantel. 

At the picture of Sid, who might be hooking up with all these other guys, who wanted to let Geno. 

Geno switches apps to Instagram, irritated. Except–there, right on top, is a post from Flower, and Sid must be in Montreal because it’s him with the Fleury girls, apparently having a tea party, and Sid has a pink tiara on and is listening to something Estelle is telling him, and–

Geno misses him. Geno misses him, and he hasn’t hooked up with anyone else, and how could he ever not be serious about this? How could he ever want anyone else? 

_Sid with you?_ he texts Flower, and gets a reply a second later. 

_Are you going to stop being stupid, then?_

_Not stupid,_ Geno retorts, and gets online to book a ticket. 

///

“Geno?” Sid’s eyes are wide as he opens the door and sees Geno. 

“Such a bad idea, Sid,” Geno says, shouldering past Sid into his room. Apparently he insisted on staying in a hotel despite Flower and Tanger’s best intentions, which works well for Geno’s plans. Geno needs some thick walls. “Worst idea you ever have.” 

“Geno?” Sid repeats, closing the door behind him. He looks even better in person–solid and relaxed and well-rested and incredulous, and Geno wants to kiss him, so he does, drawing Sid up and in. Sid goes easily, falls into it like Geno is. God, it’s so good. It always is. 

Sid’s blinking a little when Geno lets him go. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Russia.” 

“I was,” Geno agrees. His hands are still on Sid’s biceps. Partly to remind himself Sid’s really here, solid in front of him; partly because they feel nice under his fingers. “I’m fly over this morning.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t want you to hook up with anyone else,” Geno says, blunt as Sid was. Sid freezes under his hands. “It’s stupid. I don’t want you hooking up with anyone else, and I don’t want to hook up with anyone else.” 

“G…” 

But now Geno’s on a roll. “Maybe you can do relationships like that, but I can’t. I can’t–all the pictures, you with so many guys, and I’m think–drive me crazy.” he shakes his head. Shakes Sid, a bit. “If we do this, do this for real. Exclusive for real. Serious for real. No–” 

“I didn’t hook up with anyone.” 

Geno stops. “No?” 

Sid’s a little red, but he shakes his head. “No, I didn’t–I mean, I’ve always been serious about this. About us.” He’s still tense under Geno’s hands, and he’s got his serious look on. “I just didn’t…if you weren’t, I didn’t want to…” He bites at his lip, and Geno shakes him again. 

“Of course I’m serious,” Geno informs him. Sid can be so dense sometimes. 

“And you didn’t…” 

“No.” Geno runs his hands down, to Sid’s hips. “No one compare to you.” 

“Oh.” That gets a pleased smile. “Then–you didn’t argue, when I told you. I sort of thought you would. If you were serious. I didn’t think you could do something open.” 

“Think I can,” Geno admits. “Think–is us. Nothing mess with that. Think that true about us as relationship, too. But–can’t be practical like that. Hate the idea of you hook up with anyone else. I’m in such bad mood all summer, thinking about it. Think about you okay with me hook up with other people.” 

“Yeah.” Sid’s starting to grin, and his hands come up behind Geno’s neck. “I wasn’t thrilled about that either. Apparently I’ve been sulking. And missing you.” 

“And now you stop?” 

“Depends.” Sid’s close now, and his eyes have that look in them. “Are you going to remind me what I’ve missed?” 

“I’m remind you,” Geno mutters, and then he’s kissing Sid and Sid’s kissing him back like he needs to remind Geno why he should be serious about him, which Geno doesn’t need but is happy to take advantage of anyway. 

Sid traces patterns on Geno’s chest, after, drawing wide lines around Geno’s necklace. “You’re going back to Russia?” 

“Soon,” Geno agrees. He needed to do this, but he doesn’t want to give up his time in Russia either. 

“Okay.” Sid nods. “And we’re–this is it? Just us?”

“Just us,” Geno confirms firmly. “You can’t go that long, you come to Russia.” 

“I’m not flying across the world for a booty call!” Sid protests, but he’s laughing. 

“Not booty call,” Geno informs him, and pushes up onto his elbows to kiss the laughter from Sid’s lips. “Maybe I’m want you to meet my family, as–” 

“As your boyfriend?” Sid fills in. He’s smiling like he can’t help it now, something soft but brilliant. 

“Yeah,” Geno agrees. He can feel the same silly smile on his face. “Sounds right.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Want to talk about it? Comment or come chat on [ tumblr!](http://fanforthefics.tumblr.com/)


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